PS 3535 

.E955 

K6 
1 1917 

Copy 1 




ALASKA 


LOYAL 


LEGION 



Kladawah 



By 

HENRY DERR REYNOLDS 

of 

Reynolds, Alaska 

1895-1917 



ALASKA LOYAL LEGION 



Long — Strong — the Roll of Honor — Duty men — 

Each fought his fight — Yea — ALL can fight again: 

Guard well the Freedom — Lives were lost to win — 
Stand firm for RIGHT — in peace or battle din. 

"H.D." 



Author's Proof Edition 



KLADAWAH 



By 
HENRY DERR REYNOLDS 

o/ 

REYNOLDS, ALASKA 



1895^ 1917 



Presented to 



with the compliments of the Author 



Published by 

H. D. REYNOLDS & CO. 

Founded 1805 

New York 
Valdez, Seward, and Reynolds, Alaska 

Copyright, iqi7 



' / 

JUL 24 1917 
^ClA4r)7920 



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^" 



i? ^^ A 



DEDICATION 

In a strenuous experience as an Alaskan Pioneer 
— who came back — I wrote these Alaskan Songs 
— as the spirit moved and as occasion seemed to 
require. 

In this day of Liberty War the Songs are pub- 
lished for the first time — with a helpful — -hopeful 
thought — to encourage our brave boys of the 
Alaska Loyal Legion who go to the firing line. 



With the grateful heart of a Loyal Alaskan — 
who knows and who appreciates what he has 
done for Alaska and all Alaskans — -I respectfully 
dedicate this little volume to 

WOODROW WILSON 
Our-Liberty War-Presideiit 

May Omniscience guide and guard him at ALL 
times — and in ALL ways. 

THE AUTHOR 



The Lotos Club, Neiv York 
Independence Day, igiy 



t^*-nff 



:i 'r-- 



HI YU — 

SKOOKUM— 

MUCK-MUCK — 

KL ADA W AH 



Kladawah 

The Spirit of Alaska 



Dedicated to the Thoroughbreds of the Human Race — the 
Independent Alaskan Pioneers — Who Understand 



Straight as an aeroplane in swiftest flight 

Thine onward course pursue, 
Lives not another to contest thy right, 

Nor yet divert thy view; 
Thine only law, throughout this universe, 

Rests well within thy will, 
No monarch has in regal might — or purse 

The power that will still — 
Thine own creative force. 

Far back, beyond the early primal days, 

A thousand million years. 
Thou then lived, eons old, and fierce sun rays 

Refined the dross of fears; 
Throughout the process of development 

The weakness of thy right 
Was turned to greater strength, and, wellnigh spent, 

Equipped thee for thy fight — 
To overthrow brute force. 

It matters not what temporary shell 

Is housing thee today; 
It is but one of many — ^there to dwell 

The moments thou would stay. 
Give thou no thought of aught which lies beyond, 

No more than aught now past. 
Forever what thy will may choose, as fond, 

Shall come to thee — and last — 
In pure sublimity. 

In each recurrent primal epoch, thou — 

May know each kindred soul ; 
With whom thou may commune — and knowing now- 

On! straightway to thy goal. 
Mayhaps obscure — and shy — true worth may hide, 

Or secretly may dwell, 



Where need'st must search — perchance — the whole 
world wide 
And e'en through heav'n — -or hell — 
For true divinity. 

There is no power greater than thy will, 

Though weaklings may not feel 
The omnipotent scope which it doth fill, 

Compelling them to kneel. 
Few may survive the killing test of time, 

For each must fight alone; 
But they who rise — refreshed — to upward climb 

Do bravely thus atone — • 
In noble victory. 

The master minds, in those who recognize 

The universal laws. 
Wrest for themselves the richest mortal prize 

While others feebly pause; 
Seek— thou— my friends — the TRUTH— take none the less— 

Nor listen to delay — 
Thy labor is thine own — and will but bless — 

Each swiftly passing day — 
Unto ETERNITY. 



i8q5-iqi7 



Alaskan Thoroughbred 



Lovingly Dedicated to my Son 

Private Worthington Reynolds, U. S. Army 

On his Departure to France to do His Duty as a Loyal Alaskan 

in the Liberty War 



If life were but an idle play, 

And each who lives but acts a part, 
We need not care each passing day 

How hard the task, how false the start ; 
But life is real — the test is sure. 

Yea, life is stern reality, 
What ere befalls — -if heart be pure. 

The goal is — Ideality. 

The mongrel bred will sneak and shy 

And waver — dodge — -or quit through fear; 
The thoroughbred will fight and die. 

But never quit — with danger near. 
To all must come defeat and doubt. 

It matters not if swift or slow; 
What counts is how we face a rout. 

The test is just how far we go. 

You ask the secret of success 

In life — or what makes life worth while. 
There is no secret, I confess, 

Except to lose — or die — and smile; 
Within the soul of each well-born 

There dwells the one rare gift of God, 
The will to face anew each morn 

Life's duties — on the trail well trod. 

If you would seek the way to win 

You need not look beyond yourself; 
How do you face the battle's din? 

What view have you of this world's pelf? 
All through this life you stand alone 

At moments when the tests are hard ; 
Can you survive — recoup — -atone — • 

Hold on— fight through— the FINAL YARD? 



Alaskan Empire 

No Boundary Line Here" 



Dedicated to the Alaska- Yukon "Arctic Brotherhood' 
By Henry Derr Reynolds 
of Camp Valdez No. lo 



Hearts beat true, 'neath Northland blue 
Where Arctic stars guide right. 
No craven weak need dare to seek 
A test with Northern might. 
From golden dome of storm-beat Nome 
To Klondyke's priceless store, 
Where'er we roam — a "welcome home,'" 
What cheer could man want more? 

CHORUS 

Northland — our home land— 
Alaska-Yukon — ah! so grand; 
Bounteous the blessings 
Thy vastness holds in store : 
Health and pleasure — ■ 
Wealth and treasure — 
Happiness and Freedom! 
All that thy sturdy sons 
Could crave— for EVERMORE. 

An Empire waits — to carve in States — 

A land so vast in size, 

'Twould reach from Maine to Sunny Spain, 

With homes for all — a prize! 

Brave people there — who do and dare, 

Each owns a kingdom truly. 

Where men may rule — like king or fool — 

Though none may be unruly. 

The mountains grand — -in our good land — 
To heights majestic rise; 
Rich valleys fair lie everywhere, 
'Neath smiling sunny skies. 



Broad rivers roar — for evermore — 
In journeys to the sea, 
Where ships lie near, and naught of fear 
With harbors in the lee. 

From Sitka fair to Arctic glare, 

A thousand miles away; 

Aleutian Isles — near Japan's guiles 

Another thousand stray. 

Alaskan Coast — surprise to most — ■ 

Near thirty thousand miles — 

Stretch far between — and then I ween — 

'Tis more through mountain files. 

Gold — copper — lead — or — tin — instead 

May tempt you to the North; 

Or furs — or fish — may be your wish — 

All plenteous — we bring forth. 

Wood — coal — or oil may fingers soil, 

But fortunes are in store 

For those who stake their all — to make 

From little — none — or more. 

All perils fail — on lonely trail — 

To stay the Northman's course ; 

The purpose grows — 'neath fortune's blows 

And trials add but force. 

Northmen die hard — and honor guard 

Through "sunshine" or through "rain" 

The "musher's" goal — with sturdy soul — 

Is won by paths of pain. 

The fierce delights of Northern nights 

When strong men stoop to play ; 

Stakes rise to heights of regal rights. 

Nor pause till break of day. 

The fortunes wrought by men untaught 

In trickery or deceit 

Are lost in play to gamesters gay 

Whose game is but to cheat. 

Gold lured at first — and brought the worst — 
From ev'ry land and clime; 



The early ways of "stranger" days 

Were changed by hand of Time. 

Our home-land North has yet brought forth 

Survival of the best; 

The vandals flew to pastures new, 

Where hope we — they can't rest. 

In closest link of lodge-room kink 

The Anglo-Saxon tie 

Of blood as true as Norman blue 

With States' best youth — hard by ; 

Each coming year brings yet more near 

The "passing of the line," 

When hands across the border toss 

A brother's greeting — FINE! 

Men breathe free near Arctic Sea, 

There's room for great or small; 

No trust can choke with money yoke, 

'Twas tried — and — what a fall! 

The brotherhood — of men who stood — 

As Mason — Elk — or Shriner 

Has put a stamp on sole and vamp: 

"The INDEPENDENT Miner." 



igog 



Alaskan Courage 



Dedicated to 

The Alaska Loyal Legion of iqo7-io 

Whose Wisdom, Loyalty and Unfailing Courage 

Saved Lives and Fortunes Entrusted to Their Care 



It is not brave to know no fear, 
To lightly face the dangers near, 

When dangers are not understood; 
To fail to see how hard the task 
That faces us beneath a mask, 

Is foolish quite, and far from good. 

But when the mind, alert to view 
The battle, be it old or new. 

Sees every fact in plain array, 
Then doth the courage stand a test 
And show its fibre, at its best. 

While caution seeks to find a way. 

The fools rush headlong into fight 
While wise men seek to know the right, 

For ever they be side by side; 
Mayhap through fortune's merry jest 
The fools come out by far the best. 

And fearing naught, to victory ride. 

In quick foray the fools may win 
Through action, born amid the din 

Of hurried — thoughtless — reckless cause; 
But when the tides of battle last 
Through weary, hopeless ages past, 

Then doth the fools have need to pause. 

The canyons grand in our fair land. 
As grim historic beacons stand. 

'Twas there true men did stake their all, 
Not idly were those battles fought; 
Man's freedom 'twas the brave men sought. 

And — dying — WON! Through their own fall. 



"Be sure you're right, then go ahead!" 
The noble Davy Crockett said, 

And blazed a pathway for us all. 
Right may not always win by might. 
But yet be justly cause for fight 

When courage moves to rise or fall. 

Far better 'tis to lose our life 
Than cowardly to fail in strife. 

When Honor — Truth — and — Justice plead; 
Know first thy course — thy Duty best; 
Stand firm — fight hard — and leave the rest 

To GOD — who knows our daily need. 



Alaskan Love 

To My Mother 



Bright! Love's eyes in all the glory 
Of a faith both true and strong; 

Telling all, the sweetest story 

That a soul may crave in song. 

In the days of youth and beauty 
Thou shalt find a safe retreat 

In a heart whose every duty 
Is to save thee from defeat. 

Matters not the world may rout thee, 

Loving thoughts will guide thee right; 

For a faith that cannot doubt thee 

Holds thy fortunes — through its might. 

When the storms of life sweep o'er thee, 
Shatt'ring hopes thy heart may crave, 

Love — true love — will battle for thee 
With a strength most sure to save. 

When disaster seems to greet thee, 

Turn to Love — the true and tried. 

Rushing forward — there to meet thee — 
Fighting on — though hope has died. 

Love will never cease from striving. 

Even though the heart may break; 

Through sheer courage, yet surviving. 

Daring all! FOR THY DEAR SAKE. 



"'Martha 
iqoj-io 



Alaskan Martyrs 

In Memoriam 



Sacred to the memory of the brave Alaska Home Railway boys 
who were assassinated in Keystone Canyon 



Hark! hark! the sound — ^terrific — brutal — bold: 
Ye Gods! the vandals shoot— for paltry gold! 
Hark! hark! the crash — of shot and shell today; 
Look! clouds of smoke — obscure our peaceful way. 

Why? In Alaska! war — and war's alarums^ 
What doth portend— this strange resort to arms? 
Fairbanks and Valdez sadly mourn our dead ; 
Martyrs of hirelings — ^Hazlet — Hasey's lead. 

Freemen were striving — noble aims to serve, 
Freemen were driving — iron trails on nerve; 
Peaceful their purpose — none more true nor brave — 
Proudly they died — a "right of way" to save. 

Bow low thy heads — my comrades on the Trail ; 
Keystone a tomb — of hopes foredoomed to fail. 
Yet! not in vain — the cause they died to save, 
Hopes rise to heights — to heights beyond the grave. 



Mendelssohn ''Consolation 
1907 



Alaskan Innocence 



In loving thought of my Son— Ralph Winthrop Reynolds— whose innocent 
life was part of The Price of iqo7-iqio 



Sleep not within the quiet grave, 
Oh thou — where'er thou art: 

Thy casket rests within yon nave, 
Thy soul — alive — apart. 

Our hearts must grieve — we know not why- 

Thy tender years suffice; 
A life so short — so young to die, 

We hope — in faith — ARISE! 



Alaska Triumphant 



How doth yon tyrants gain their selfish ends? 
Gold! buys the powder — gold — their only friends. 
How can Alaskans — win their worthy cause? 
While every Bench — -but voices tyrants' laws. 

Sad — ^sad — the years — of tyrants" frightful reign ; 
How could we win — ^our freedom back again? 
Hark! comes a call — from far beyond the sea: 
Brandeis and Glavis bring the victory! 

Yea! Hope and Peace throughout our happy land 
Thine now the glory — thine the faithful stand. 
Loyal the Legion — guards our freedom — won! 
Now all serene — we face the rising sun. 



Northland Exiles 

(Published by permission) 



You who have lived in the Northland, 
You who have trod on the trail, 
And searched for gold on the hillsides, 
Have won out, where others did fail. 

You who have made here your fortune, 
Then strayed to the great Outside, 
Must long sometimes for our Northland, 
The land so free and so wide. 

You cannot forget the mountains, 
With peaks crested white with snow, 
Nor days spent mushing on hillside, 
Quite often with grub-sack low. 

Remember the silent evenings, 
The moonlight as bright as the day; 
The call of the owl from the tree-top 
To mate, on a branch o'er the way. 

The Summer that knows not a twilight. 
The stillness that fills you with calm, 
Then sunrise! that bathes you in glory. 
And singing of birds — like a psalm. 

It is not the gold that lures you 
Back to your great Northland ; 
For you this is HOME, you old-timer. 
You know, and YOU understand. 



— Marjorie Rieman. 



Camp Comfort, Alaska 
igi6 



Alaskan "Outside" 

To the "Sourdoughs" 



The message you send from the Northland 
To those who have wandered away 
Strikes home to each who can understand 
And rouses new thoughts of today. 

Oh, why did we listen to others 
Who spoke of the comforts "Outside"? 
Although we were weary of struggle 
And longed for the turn of the tide? 

Our fortunes had come through hard labor, 
Through trials and oft times through tears, 
We fought — and we worked — and we conquered, 
In spite of all failures and fears. 

We wanted to taste of the pleasures 
Which gold and clear conscience can buy, 
And we journeyed afar among strangers 
To live out our life till we die. 

But always the Northland is calling. 
No matter where'er we might roam; 
We know that "Outside" is as nothing. 
Compared to our Northland — our HOME! 

So back we shall come, we old-timers, 
Again we shall shoulder our pack; 
Again we shall taste of real cooking. 
That lightens the hefty grub-sack. 

No more can Cheechacoes entice us. 

To cities or palaces grand; 

We are NORTHMEN— our home is ALASKA- 

Yes! WE know — and — WE understand. 



"Somewhere Outside' 
igi6 



Alaskan Hearts and Flowers 

To One "Outside" 



'Mid life's errors, wounded Heart, 
Seek thou consolation, 'tis thy part, 
Friendship rare hath come to thee, 
Bringing joy and Truth's sweet victory. 

Doubts and fears will melt away 
Beneath the sun of Hope's new day; 
Steadfast turn thy thoughts above; 
Heaven will crown thy life with new-born love. 

Flowers of friendship blossom bright 
When the heart doth guide thy course aright. 
Love worth having, after all, 
Answers only Soul in truthful call. 



igo6 



Some Rank- Outsider Nonsense 



Admiral Sourdough registers a kick 
at a wotsonerie-club smoker 



"High diddle diddle — yah! some fiddle, too. 
Huh! (them raw cheechacoes snoopin' at you) 
The stiff puts on lugs — amongst us ole bugs — 
Which knowed him (ole tillicums — shake) th' ole stew. 

"High diddle diddle (tenas) wot's th' use — 
Of chuckin' ole pozies? — new squaw? no excuse; 
New suite er — du lux — pipes hiyu — yah! (oh shucks) 
Cut details — langwige fails (same here) ole cayuse." 

""Anywhere in Alaska" 
igi6 



To the Rank "Outsider" 



Whom every old '"Sourdough" knows best 

as the red-headed, red-handed 
—name initials — near relative to sugar tongs 



You reach your greedy hands to prey 

Upon our land of toil. 
You filch the gold we dig each day — 

Yet not one finger soil. 

You send among us "hired hands" 

With lack of scruples — too. 
Among our men — throughout our lands — 

Your friends are mighty few. 

Why not ship North your puny spawn 
Or come — "look see" — and know — 

From whence is wrought with sturdy brawn 
The wealth YOU waste in "show"? 

Mayhap in seeking here to find — 

The source of what you get — 
A something of our heart and mind — 

Will trickle through you yet. 

If "safety first" is what you seek 

Don't whine and knock "outside." 

Come North — we're kind — we know you're weak- 
We'll spare your skin and pride! 

Dream on — if you prefer to take 

A chance on what we know — 
Of what portends when ALL awake — 

To strike the final blow. 



'Anywhere in Alaska" 
'Any old time" 



Alaska Aloneness 

To One too young to understand 



Through ages past alone he fought 
With courage steadfast — true — 

Perhaps a comrade he has sought — 

Perhaps it may be you. 

For surely you must understand 
How firm his purpose, dear, 

Which ever held — on sea or land — 
A hope — that drew you near. 

You may not know the inner fire 

Which burns with steady flame; 
A heart may conquer all desire — 

Yet love you just the same. 
A deep compelling passion pure 

Is stronger far than might — 
Which burns the bonds of honor sure 

And pales with dawning light. 

Stern purpose true may know no fear 

Of aught which may betide, 
Yet now the comrade ever near 

Is welcome at his side. 
United you may seek to learn 

The truth, within your soul. 
If this be love you may not spurn 

Love's guidance to your goal. 



igib 



Lotos 

The Port of Peace 



Reverently dedicated to my fraternal friend, Aaron L. Northrop, who — with 
other friends of kindred mind and heart and soul — founded The Lotos Club 



From thence we come — to find a friend 

Of early youth — when joy could fill the hour. 

Stern years have passed, with them an end — 

Of golden dreams — which seemed to point to power. 

Throughout the universe is war — • 

Mad myriads in deadly grip with foe; 
Too much of good combatants mar 

With wretched battle lines of bleeding woe. 

Now — in the afternoon of life — 

At last we learn all futile dreams are naught; 
We know that what we gain in strife — 

Is not the end — or all — for which we fought. 

With knowledge comes a higher aim — 

Clear vision brings a firmer grip on fate; 

No souls — or hearts — or limbs — we maim — 

Will compensate — for primal — brutal — ^hate, 

A mental atmosphere of peace 

And restful sense of deeds well done each day, 
Extends to life a new-born lease 

And "Afternoon" is NOW — in every way. 



The Lotos Club, New York 
June 20, 1917 



Printed by 

Eaton & Gettinger 

New York City 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 

lillllillllllllllllllll 

018 349 870 8 # 



